


Child of the Imminas: The Watchtower falling

by LadyJesus



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom, His Dark Materials, The Wheel of Time - Fandom, Twilight, Wicked, game of thrones, the lord of the rings
Genre: Descended from gods, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-10
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:48:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24107743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyJesus/pseuds/LadyJesus
Summary: The Watchtower, the fount of Immortal power is attacked by one of their own, dissatisfied with his lot. Three sisters are attacked and enslaved by means of a Spirit laced bracelet.
Relationships: Familial bond - Relationship
Kudos: 1





	Child of the Imminas: The Watchtower falling

Imman Khestal sat anxiously at his desk, empty but for the single flickering flame hovering over one of its corners, facing two hooded figures. Hiding yet again in the deep dark and dank basement of the Great Watchtower of the Immortals, however convenient was rather a depressing proposition, but first things first.

"Show me," he bellowed imperiously at them. The tall, slender one to the left thrust a small diary into his hands, almost stabbing him with unkempt nails in his earnest. The second figure, a head shorter but powerfully built, placed a pitch-black chunk of metal on the table with disdain, as if to simply diffirentiate the response. Khestal inched forward wistfully, hands stretching with greed towards that lightless void, darker than the gloomy room itself. Better not show his hand too soon, even among his conspirators, he thought as he quickly composed himself.

"I ask one last time, my brothers. Are we committed to this plan of mine? Do we dare continue? The first couple of years may prove extremely difficult, even after tonight's work. But I promise you, the rewards shall be... rewarding," he finished nastily.

The short one broke the silence that followed first, in a booming voice somehow compressed into a whisper, "I am committed. But I still don't understand why I had to sneak all the way to the Great Arantion for this black gunk. It is nothing special once hardened, I am sure."

The second voice was a soft hiss in contrast, and Khestal had to struggle to hear, "Well, somebody had to. And seeing as the rest of us have far better uses than playing the pack mule... I am committed as well. Tell me, what happens next?," he questioned with slight arrogance.

Khestal considered his younger brothers sourly. So far the only two admitted in confidence and a sad excuse for loyal subjects. But if things develop accordingly, he thought with glee. "Since you have give me your word," he began. "You may no longer question my methods, or my authority. We must act quickly and decisively. Khinon, locate the youngest of the three and lure her to this basement. Share some of that useless lore Immina Pforinda is so fond of, but do it quickly." Turning to his second brother as the slender Imman bowed deeply and left the room noiselessly, he said, "Khogan, you must keep an eye on the other two and send word as soon as the councilwoman leaves her chambers. I shall handle her. Your only concern is keeping Immina Pfortuna under control, by whatever means necessary, is that understood?" His remaining brother bowed lazily and departed as quietly as the first. 

At last, thought Khestal, as he turned to the bleak metal on the table, flipping through the small diary almost maniacally. "Ha!," he burst, as he found the page he wanted. He tore it out with fervor and threw the rest of the diary into the flickering flame. It flared and devoured the tiny tome like a starving beast, then settled back to a slight flicker. Khestal took the black ore in his hands, muttering darkly under his breath. It seemed to shiver for a second then slowly started to melt. He tapped into it with his Power and held it in place, now a puddle of jet black goo. He manipulated the metal into three equal parts and flattened them delicately, now fervently muttering incantations. He took one of the three out of the air, pulled and stretched it into a long thin strip. He wove Spirit onto it, watched it glow for a second, and then repeated the process with the remaining two. What resulted were three fluid, pitch-black, snakelike strips of living metal. He silently congratulated himself when there was a sudden tap on the door.

The three strips quivered angrily in surprise and Khestal stared at them like a fond master. He held his emotions in check and called a quick "Enter" into the dim room. A beautiful woman with bright red hair walked into the room, dressed in a flowing robe of immaculate white, looking tiny next to the tall, slender, hooded figure of his brother Khinon.

"Why, Imman Khestal, you are sitting in near darkness," she said in a clear musical voice that carried around the dingy room as she raised her arm, a silvery white light flashing joyously into being. "Hiding in the basement of all places. Whatever could you be up to now?," she queried as she peered curiously at her surroundings, her glowing green eyes fixing on the hovering strips of black liquid metal above the desk.

Khestal made a throwing motion with his arm and one of the three strips flew across the room, snaking a couple of times around the beautiful woman's tiny wrist, finally meeting again with a loud snap. The woman cried out in pain as her light went out. Khestal nearly jumped as he felt Power rushing into him from the small woman's direction. She staggered slightly, then gathering herself up majestically demanded, "What is the meaning of this, Khestal? Release me!"

Khestal ignored her a second time, turned to his brother, and said savagely, "Cut out her tongue, Khinon! There shall be no more bickering from the Imminas." The tall Imman reached into his subdued robes, pulled out a long shiny dagger and moved obediently in the woman's direction. After a bit of a struggle she laid on the floor, sobbing hysterically, a bloody stump beside her. Khestal moved around his desk, approaching her slowly, looking down his nose at her in contempt and finally strode out of the room, calling over his shoulder, "Keep her down, Khinon. We'll have the full set in an hour, then no one shall stand in our way again!"

Part Two

Immina Pforkana shuffled cheerfully through her possessions in one of the topmost chambers of the tower. She knew not what she looked for but she was nonetheless content. She moved to her one and only window and marveled at the stretch of dark quiet waters. The ocean can look so peaceful in the deep of night, she thought in wonder. Suddenly a great flash of images fluttered through her head, almost blinding her. She dismissed them with ease and glanced warily at her sister who sat rigidly in the comfiest chair by the glow of the fire. A matching pair they were in resplendent white robes and glossy red hair. Pforkana bubbled with excitement. It had been centuries since her sister had a Viewing this powerful. What could it be? She reached to the back of her mind for her younger sister, Pforinda, and felt nothing. Interesting. Had she learned to close her mind to the touch? Well, what a pesky time for her to master it!

She turned instead to the one she could see and ran across the room with concern. Pfortuna's visions lasted but seconds, never this long for sure. What could she be seeing? Her sister started to shake convulsively and Pforkana grasped her by the shoulders, reaching once again for the touch of Pforinda's mind and still felt nothing. A minute or so later, Pfortuna slumped down her seat with unseemly weariness, and lay unconscious. Pforkana started to shake her sister, gently at first, then with great vigor in her panic. Giving up, she simply slapped her across the face. Pfortuna came to at last. She opened her green eyes looking quite dazed, and started to mumble incoherently.

"Pfortuna! What is it, sister? What have you seen?" No response to her concern. "Pull yourself together, woman, and tell me at once," she commanded with the power of a councilwoman of the tower.

Immina Pfortuna continued to mumble in earnest, finally blurting out in a loud clear voice, "...destiny! It is time to meet ours at last."

"Destiny? You sound like a human with that nonsense," snapped Pforkana and tried to help her sister to her feet, but Pfortuna seemed to loose her will and slumped wearily to the ground again. "Oh, stay on the floor for all I care, but tell me what you saw!"

Immina Pfortuna seemed to gather herself and consider the request at last, starting slowly, as if revisiting it. "Blood and fire, I saw. Half the tower in flames, followed by a light so bright and pure it seemed unnatural, taking everything with it as it disappeared, as if it never existed. I saw us three in chains in a palace of black metal, looking ragged and defeated. I saw fleeing Immortals chased down, tortured and executed. Then I saw three children glowing with silver light, as if from within, though I seemed to know them somehow..."

Pforkana waited for more, but her sister was lost in thought, as was she for that matter. Who would be foolish enough to attack the watchtower, the fount of Immortal power itself? For it would surely happen, just like her sister's previous visions. But she could not give into despair. The vision came for a reason. Something could and must be done. But what could that be? And above all, when would this take place? She froze in fear, "Pfortuna, I can't sense Pforinda at all. Could you try? If we are to be attacked..."

Her sister looked her in the eyes and said sadly, "I'm afraid it's too late, my dear. Pforinda must be chained already for I cannot sense her either. But how? Who would dare strike an Immina?"

There was a loud rasp at the door, making the sisters jump in fright, but the door opened almost at once admitting a third woman, this one with luscious brown hair but with the same bright green-eyed stare of the redheaded sisters. The young woman walked around the room searchingly, noticing the pair behind the chair at last.

"Mother, what has happened? I thought I saw Immina Pfortuna collapse?"

Pforkana stood up at once; walked across the room purposely, she clutched for her shawl and with nervous hands gathered it around her small frame. "If the attack has started as you suspect, Pfortuna, then the council must be informed immediately," she pronounced into the silent chamber. Her daughter Pfetiya looked utterly confused as she helped the tired Pfortuna to her feet. Pforkana looked at her beautiful child and trying to tame her fear, said commandingly, "Pfetiya, listen and obey, my daughter. You must flee to Zeniya Island this instant and look for your sister. Warn as many Immortals as you can on your way out but you must be outside the tower as soon as possible. Tell my first-born her time will come, to trust her instincts and keep to the old ways. Keep each other safe, my love," she kissed her quickly and hurried out the door, thinking furiously.

How could she possibly save the Immortals if Pfortuna had foreseen their demise? What could she accomplish in such a short time? The council is prone to bicker as it is. Was that Imman Khogan marching toward her chamber doors? Focus, you old hag, she chided herself silently as she walked down the winding stairs towards the Great Council, both the group of people and the massive hall itself. There seemed to be a gathering of some sort. It must be providence! She opened the doors unceremoniously and a dozen pair of ancient eyes turned in her direction in surprise.

"Immina Pforkana, you must have missed your pageboy, but how splendid! Let us begin at once," intoned Khavin Eldest, at the raised seat directly across the entrance doors.

"Pfortuna has had a powerful vision of our future," she burst out before they could stop her. "The tower itself will be attacked, many Immortals will die and some of us will be taken prisoner!"

The Great Council stared at her, dumbfounded, and at that moment in her existence she thanked the Gods that Immortals could not lie, for they knew her words true and continued to question her thoroughly with the meticulous passion of the wisest of the Immortals of the tower. She impatiently answered their questions when she felt a presence flicker out of her mind.

"I can't sense my sister anymore. It is happening now, you old fools," she screamed into the massive chamber. "We must act!"

The members of the council colored angrily at being addressed so by one of their own, but Pforkana ignored them all, strode across the hall and started striking the giant calling bell in a frenzy, the room itself ringing with its loud piercing cry.

The tall doors of the Council burst open one more time and Imman Khestal stood blinking in its doorframe before striding powerfully into the room, an arrogant glint to his step. He threw something in her direction and felt the cold bite of metal on her wrist. She turned in midair, as if to flee into the mists she could call to her defense but could not reach her Power. Shock rocked her. What is this thing? she thought looking down her left arm, staring wonderingly at her new bracelet of ever changing black liquid metal. It seemed to flow continuously onto itself like trapped murky water. Khestal walked across the room, directly up to her and smacked her forcibly in the face. Several of the council members muttered angrily as she stumbled and fell with a crash, but he seemed to ignore them all. He was laughing gleefully to himself. 

"Silence!," he called in a thunderous voice. "A new era has dawned, my friends, by my hand alone. We need not hide in our tower any longer, playing to role of advisors, and healers, forever in the background. We must rise up above the humans and take our true place. As kings, better yet, as gods among mere mortals!" There was a glint of madness to his passionate ranting as he finished, "You will accept me now as your Emperor, as the most powerful Immortal in existence and bow before me, or pay the consequences."

The Great Council stood defiantly, shielded though they were from their Power, dignity their only weapon. Khavin Eldest turned to his middle son and rejected him sadly, the council members nodding their approval.

"So be it, my father," said Imman Khestal. Pforkana felt a huge wave rushing through her body, every fiber of her being ablaze, Power channeling outward through her bracelet. The very tower shook as Khestal raised his arms in anger. She thought herself mistaken when twelve bodies littered the hall of the Great Council, but Power continued to grow within and all around her till she knew no more...

Part Three

It was an unusually dark night but Pfatima felt compelled to walk in it, as if a great calling deep within her wanted to answer. She felt a bit foolish zigzagging through the tall trees, conjuring light for herself. She was approaching the edge of the forests of Zeniya when she fell to her knees, pushed by a great blow, to what part of her body she couldn't be certain, but she felt dread. Something terrible had just happened. I feel as if my very life were somehow deserting me, she thought. How silly of me! That was when she noticed a great light of terrific brightness to the south, coming from where? The tower? How eerily pretty it is...

She was knocked further down as a powerful shock wave rumbled through the air as if nothing could stop it. She found her ears ringing from the momentous explosion. The imposing light seemed to flare even brighter, blinding her. When she could finally recognize her surroundings, she found her body rocked by great sobs, and with fat tears streaming down her face she staggered back into the safety of the forest.

**Author's Note:**

> Next: First Chapter - In House Valentzia


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